


Rescue

by marginaliana



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canonical Temporary Character Death, Critical role episode 69, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27357877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana/pseuds/marginaliana
Summary: Percy was dead, and there was Orthax.
Relationships: Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III & Keyleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24
Collections: Comfortember 2020





	Rescue

The months since the deaths of the Briarwoods had been odd ones, for Percy. Difficult months, and frightening ones, and confusing ones. Perhaps most notable was that they had seen a loosening of his self-loathing, a small growth of self-respect. He had even begun to think that there were punishments he didn't deserve. Pain that was too much, pain that was _unfair_ instead of always, endlessly justified.

And then he was dead, and there was Orthax.

He had been burned before. Stabbed, sliced, covered in acidic mist, bitten, bashed over the head. He had been _shot_ just a moment ago, which was particularly galling. 

But he had never felt pain like this, never felt as if he was being devoured in some fundamental piece of himself. Not his body; not the thing that made his cleverness or his quick fingers; not whatever made him Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III; not even the brokenness inside him that made him too dangerous to be left unwatched. 

He had never been quite sure about the soul. But if anything was a soul, it was this. This, which was being ripped apart, ground between insubstantial teeth, being dissolved in saliva, being slurped up with sick gusto and swallowed in eager gulps.

It was pain and pain and pain – and the worst of it was the fear that it would end. That he would hurt until there was nothing left to hurt. Nothing left to repent, nothing left to try again, nothing left to be better. Nothing left to carry on loving, in the helpless and quiet way that he loved. The pain would end and he would be _nothing_.

And then… there was a hand. Keyleth's hand, in all its contradictory softness and strength. He'd held that hand before, had it rested warmly on his shoulder, had it pull him into a hug. He had seen it flapping in excitement or wiping tears from her face. He had seen it kill and he had seen it cure, had seen it bring life where there was none to be found. 

He reached for her now, but she did not touch him. Instead her hand wrapped around a thread of smoke, one that Percy hadn't seen in the endless darkness. The thread was thin even in her delicate fingers, but it was strong, unyielding. Still, the sight of it changed something in him, carving away the smallest part of his pain and filling the space with a thin sliver of hope.

"No!" Orthax rasped. Percy had almost forgotten who his torturer was, as consumed by pain as he had been, but the voice that had haunted his dreams for years was instantly recognizable. "No, I finally have him. I finally–"

Keyleth's wrist twisted sharply; the thread snapped. Orthax screamed, mouth opening wide. Percy screamed too, the relief from pain almost too much to bear. But he was aware enough to see Orthax's mouth folding open like a rotting flower, its teeth wrapping around its own head. He watched as it ate itself from the top down, head to neck to amorphous body, swallowing its own smoke until it twisted into scraps in the darkness.

Percy reached for Keyleth again, but her hand had faded into darkness, too. He would have wept, then, if he had any eyes to cry with.

Still, there was comfort in the darkness. The Raven Queen would take him now, and though he was not fool enough to call her merciful, he could at least have faith that whatever fate she took him to was one he truly deserved. 

And Keyleth had rescued him from Orthax, from oblivion. Perhaps he could plead with the Raven Queen on her behalf, for the day when Keyleth's time came. He wouldn't ask for her to avoid death entirely – no one should have that power – but he could ask for the same grace that Keyleth had afforded him, in the end. He could ask for the moment to be peaceful.


End file.
